


Blame It on the Alcohol: Part II

by InsightfulInsomniac



Category: Glee
Genre: Drunken Shenanigans, F/F, F/M, Future Fic, Humor, M/M, Most of the gang’s here, it’s the best mess, tw alcohol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-09-23 20:50:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20346517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsightfulInsomniac/pseuds/InsightfulInsomniac
Summary: To celebrate Rachel agreeing to be Kurt and Blaine’s surrogate, they throw a “last drink” party to commemorate the major life change that’s about to happen. Things get a little (a lot) out of hand, and suddenly, it’s just like high school all over again.Well, without spin the bottle. That would be even more awkward this time around.





	Blame It on the Alcohol: Part II

**Author's Note:**

> For some reason, I wrote 75% of this fic awhile ago and just finally got around to finishing it! I had so much fun writing them in this situation, and I hope you enjoy it!

“Are you 100% positive you want to go through with this?” Kurt asks, leveling a look at Rachel from his seat on the couch.

She nods. “Absolutely. I would be honored to be your surrogate.”

“Okay,” Kurt exhales, unable to stop the beam that stretches across his face. “Okay! We’re going to be dads!”

His hand finds Blaine’s knee and squeezes tightly, feeling a warm, buzzing excitement in his chest as his husband grins and presses a kiss to his cheek.

“Aw, you guys are going to be the best dads ever,” Rachel squeals. “And I can only hope that I can provide the best place for your baby to grow for the next nine months.”

“Well, you’re going to have to wait a little bit,” Blaine comments. “The appointment we set up isn’t for another three weeks, so think ten months from now.”

“Oh my god, there’s so much I have to do in the next three weeks!” Rachel gasps. “I’ve got to buy maternity clothes, try to cut down on caffeine so I can wean myself off of coffee...”

“You’ll be great, Rachel,” Kurt soothes, and she gasps again.

“No alcohol!” She adds to her own list. “Shoot. I’ll have to remember that one for when I’m at an event with fancy drinks or when I just want a glass of wine.”

“Yes, please remember that one,” Blaine laughs. “But if it makes you feel any better, we can stop drinking with you during your pregnancy. Like a solidarity thing.”

She snorts. “I’m far from being an alcoholic, but you guys barely drink! That wouldn’t be much of a challenge.”

“We share a bottle of wine occasionally,” Kurt protests. “But you’re right, it’s not usually our beverage of choice.”

“He just gets embarrassed about what he does while drunk,” Blaine stage whispers, earning a slap on the arm from his husband.

Rachel giggles. “Oh, believe me, I know. I’ve seen the rare trashed Kurt Hummel.”

“Neither of you are much better,” Kurt points out.

“Well, why don’t we do this,” Blaine begins. “Rachel, since you’re not going to be drinking for nine months on our behalf, let’s throw a celebratory ‘we’re having a baby’ party with our closest friends and get absolutely wasted for the last time as a non-pregnant woman and as non-dads.”

She claps excitedly. “I am so in! My rehearsals wrap early two Fridays from now, so that would be a great time to have it!”

“Then it’s settled! I’ll get the word out,” Blaine grins, and despite the stupid smile that tugs at Kurt’s lips, he manages an exasperated roll of his eyes at what is to come.

******

Two weeks later, the Hummel-Anderson apartment is full of their closest friends, keys stashed in the back of a random cabinet that everyone will forget about when they’re drunk. They decided to have a sleepover for safety purposes, and for old time’s sake.

Blaine stands up, raising a now full shot glass. “Thank you, everyone, for coming to Rachel’s final drink party and for celebrating the impending arrival of our child!”

The small crowd cheers and hollers in response.

“Even though we are all responsible adults now, let’s enjoy one final night of forgetting our commitments and just get wasted!”

Blaine raises his glass to more cheers before bringing it to his lips and throwing it back, only wincing slightly at the burn. “Let’s get this party started!”

Everyone packed into the living room simultaneously takes a shot of the blue raspberry-flavored vodka that Rachel requested, never quite getting over her affinity for novelty, sugary alcohol.

“That’ll get you drunk quick,” Blaine remarks to Kurt, gesturing to his glass. “Burns a little going down, but it tastes like candy.”

Kurt raises an eyebrow, grabbing the nearby bottle off of the coffee table and pouring both him and his husband another round. “Let’s see just how quick it works, then.”

With a shared smile, the two of them take their shots in unison, the burn of the alcohol already becoming less abrasive. Sam seems to already be attempting to mix some kind of dangerous drink for him and Artie to try, and Tina and Mercedes are passing a bottle of Malibu between them. Santana and Britt are in the midst of a heated shot-taking competition between just the two of them, working down a line of full glasses.

Rachel walks up to Kurt and Blaine and grabs the bottle of vodka from Kurt’s hand, taking a long swig from the bottle itself. “I want to get this show on the road so we can play some games!” She throws a pointed look in Blaine’s direction. “But not spin the bottle, I promise.”

Blaine chuckles. “Thank you. I appreciate that, you know, since practically all of us are married or dating.”

Rachel nods enthusiastically. “And you’re definitely gay.”

“Definitely.”

Jesse suddenly appears at her side, resting a hand on her shoulder. “Rach, do you want something else to drink other than vodka?”

She shakes her head no. “This stuff is too good, and I’m going to be drunk in no time. I expect you to be too.”

Jesse raises his eyebrows. “Your wish is my command, I guess.”

A little over a half hour later, the effects of the alcohol begin to take hold of most of the partygoers.

“I’m not gay, but if I was, I’d definitely be in love with young Anakin,” Sam remarks loudly, clapping Blaine on the shoulder. “Right? I mean, what do you think? Isn’t he the hottest Jedi-turned-Sith ever?”

Blaine nods. “Everyone gets on Padmé’s case for marrying him, but have you seen the man?”

“That’s why I married you,” Kurt grins, leaning heavily into Blaine’s side as he stands and talks to Sam. “Just look at you!”

“Good to know your motives, babe,” Blaine chuckles. He’s definitely drunk himself, but as he got older, his alcohol tolerance grew in strength, while Kurt’s essentially stayed the same. Which is why Kurt already appears twice as drunk as nearly everyone in the room, save for one Rachel Berry.

“Truth or dare!” Rachel shouts out of the blue. “Let’s play truth or dare!”

“What are we, 13?” Santana snarks, looking a lot less threatening than she sounds as her head is in Brittany’s lap, her wife combing through her hair gently. Out of all of them, Brittany changed the most from her teenage drinking days, now becoming Santana’s keeper with the occasional stripping moment, not the other way around as it once was.

“How about never have I ever?” Artie suggests. “We can take a drink every time we’ve done something.”

Rachel nods, swaying a little as Jesse wraps an arm around her waist. “Okay! Let’s all sit on the floor, because then maybe the room will stop moving.”

The group sits on the floor in somewhat of a circle, placing a few bottles of alcohol in the center. Rachel leans into Jesse still, who looks all too amused with his wife’s actions. As soon as Blaine sits down, Kurt is in his lap, curling up happily and pressing a sloppy kiss to his husband’s neck.

“God, you’d think you would have an excuse for being so gross when you’re drunk,” Santana comments, despite sitting pressed up against Brittany.

Mercedes and Tina suddenly burst out laughing at something Sam said, giggling wildly as Rachel tries to get the game started.

“Okay! Okay, let’s play! I’ll go first, uh...” she thinks about her answer for a second. “Never have I ever gotten married in a barn.”

“That’s just unfair,” Blaine protests, but obediently takes a shot along with Kurt, Britt, and Santana.

Rachel laughs, clapping her hands. “Okay! Who’s next?”

“I’ll go,” Artie offers. “Never have I ever kissed Sam Evans.”

“I don’t know if I should be proud or concerned that every girl here just took a shot,” Sam says. “It kind of makes me seem like some man-whore.”

“Aw, no, buddy. Come on. We all did stupid things in high school,” Blaine amends, and Kurt nods enthusiastically.

“I wore giant furry hats. I regret it every day of my life.”

“That’s not exactly the same, but I think I see what you’re saying,” Sam replies with a shrug. “Tina, you’re up.”

“Never have I ever had sex in the McKinley High School building.”

A chorus of “oohs” sounds from the group, everyone watching carefully to see if anyone takes a shot.

“I’m proud of it,” Santana shrugs, throwing another one back as Brittany does the same. “All of you losers missed out.”

“Not so fast,” Artie adds, taking a shot of his own. “Don’t ask. It was so bad.”

“I’m kind of surprised that you guys didn’t,” Mercedes remarks, gesturing over at Kurt and Blaine. “God knows how much sexual tension we all experienced from you two in glee every week.”

“We were classier than that,” Kurt replies nonchalantly. “And pretty much the only out kids in school, so...”

“Hello,” Santana waves a hand between her and Brittany. “We were out. Mostly.”

“Yeah, but guys aren’t going to beat up girls,” Blaine comments. “We never got any closer to getting it on in the building than having a quickie in the backseat of Kurt’s car in the parking lot.”

Rachel makes a noise of distaste. “Car sex is cramped and uncomfortable. Not ideal.”

“Try a wheelchair-accessible car sometime. Plenty of room,” Artie suggests, earning a loud laugh from Mercedes.

“Okay, maybe instead of just playing never have I ever, we should add a ‘but I will’ clause,” Jesse comments. “That means that whenever someone says ‘never have I ever,’ someone can say ‘but I will’ and do whatever was said for an extra point.”

Sam furrows his eyebrows in confusion. “Wait, there are points now?”

“Ooh, I like how you think,” Santana smirks. “Never have I ever streaked down the street.”

“No,” Mercedes says flatly as Artie takes a shot. Jaws drop and heads turn to him, and he shrugs.

“College was a weird time.”

“For our own safety, I veto that dare,” Blaine says quickly, seeing a scarily excited spark in his husband’s eyes. “We’re all staying in here until we’re sober, remember?”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be sober again!” Rachel giggles, throwing her hands in the air and whacking Jesse unceremoniously in the face. Her husband gently lowers her arms back to her sides, and despite being drunk himself, affectionately rubs up and down her arms to calm her down.

“Babe, I’m not sure that’s how alcohol works,” he chuckles, and she shrugs.

“Whatever. I’m bored with this game. Blaine won’t let us do any of the fun dares!”

“Yeah!” Kurt choruses loudly, and Blaine stares at him in confusion.

“Sorry, baby,” Kurt says immediately after realizing who’s lap he’s sitting in. “I still love you even though you won’t let me streak down the street.”

Kurt pats Blaine’s cheek comfortingly, and Blaine merely sighs, wrapping his arms around his husband and burying his face into the back of his shoulder.

“Well, since we all know who is the drunkest,” Santana comments, “Why don’t we play a fun game of ‘who will forfeit first? Berry or Hummel edition.’”

“Anderson-Hummel!” Kurt corrects loudly, and Santana rolls her eyes, but carries on nonetheless.

“Everyone just dare them and see what they agree to do,” she explains. “It’ll be hilarious.”

“Nothing that leaves the apartment or puts them in harm’s way,” Jesse instructs, much to both Rachel and Kurt’s chagrin.

“Ooh! I have an idea!” Tina pipes up, swaying a bit as she leans against Mercedes. “Kurt, Rachel — race to see who can give your partner a hickey the fastest!”

“Again, are we thirteen?” Santana scoffs. “I thought we’d get juicier dares from the peanut gallery.”

“C’mon, Santana, start them off easy,” Mercedes remarks. “It’s a good dare, Tina.”

Kurt turns in Blaine’s lap to face him as Rachel does the same to Jesse. “Where do you want it?”

Blaine sighs, but not without an amused smile. “Your choice.”

“Get ready in three, two, one — go!” Artie calls.

Kurt immediately leans in and nips at the side of Blaine’s upper neck, tilting his jaw up gently to allow him better access. He knows he’s going to have to work a little harder than Rachel, considering her husband’s paler skin tone in comparison to Blaine’s.

Luckily, he’s had quite a bit of practice in this area.

It suddenly occurs to Blaine, right after he manages to bite back a soft groan at Kurt’s goal-oriented actions, that he’s got a room full of friends watching his husband give him a hickey. Well, there have been weirder moments, he supposes. Still, at the risk of seeming as if he’s enjoying this way too much, he keeps his eyes closed, avoiding making eye contact with anyone.

“Done!” Kurt exclaims proudly a few short seconds later, and Rachel detaches herself from Jesse just a millisecond after.

“I’m done too!”

“Let’s have a judge,” Artie decides. “Any volunteers? A neutral party, please.”

“I’ll do it,” Brittany offers, not bothering to get off the floor as she crawls over to Blaine.

“Nice shape. Kind of looks like a cloud,” she remarks. “Pretty dark. Good job.”

Brittany then crawls over to Jesse, inspecting him in the same up-close way she did Blaine. “Ooh, Rachel, yours looks like a heart! That’s cool.”

“But the competition was for who was the fastest,” Kurt protests. “And I was the fastest!”

“We tied!” Rachel interjects, and Kurt scoffs.

Brittany returns to her spot next to Santana. “I’ve decided that even though Rachel’s is pretty, Kurt was faster and his is darker. He wins.”

“Yes!” Kurt exclaims, high-fiving Blaine enthusiastically, pouring each of them another generous shot.

“I think we should turn on some music!” Artie suggests, earning resounding cheers from the group, the party games abandoned as Blaine plugs in his phone and turns the volume up on the speakers.

Less than a minute into dancing, Brittany’s already getting visibly uncomfortable. Really they should’ve seen this coming.

“It’s so hot in here,” she complains, pulling her shirt over her head and tossing it in somewhere in the room. She then happily resumes grinding against Santana, who looks totally unbothered by her wife’s state of undress.

“I agree!” Sam calls, ridding himself of his shirt as he body rolls enthusiastically.

“I don’t want my shirt either!” Rachel laughs, pulling at her top, attempting to get it over her head and failing.

Jesse sets down his drink and comes to her aid, instead fixing her shirt back into place. She pouts at her husband, immediately fiddling with it again. “I want it off!”

“Are you sure?” He asks, and she nods.

“No one here cares! It’s hot! And Brittany and Sam are doing it!”

With a defiant stubbornness in her eyes, Rachel never leaves smug eye contact with Jesse as she finally succeeds to yank her shirt over her head, discarding it on the nearby couch. “I feel so much better!”

Santana wolf-whistles from across the room. “Yeah, that’s right, Berry!”

Without any warning, Kurt also strips off his shirt, quickly reaching around Blaine from where he’s pressed up against him and ripping his open, dragging it down over his shoulders.

“I like you without a shirt better,” he says matter-of-factly, and Blaine doesn’t protest, instead wordlessly turning his head to meet Kurt’s lips over his shoulder.

“Ooh, get it boys!” Santana calls, turning the camera on her phone away from selfie mode, where she had been taking a shaky video of her and Britt dancing. Even though they’re obviously being filmed, the two boys don’t seem to take notice, and Kurt instead turns Blaine around and backs him against a nearby wall.

Santana turns the camera back around to show her faux-scandalized expression, then positions herself so she can get what she thinks is the most genius shot of her wiggling her eyebrows in the left side of the frame while the two husbands make out heatedly in the right.

“I’m so tired,” Tina comments suddenly, stumbling over to the couch. “I’m just gonna — gonna rest my eyes —“

Just a few moments later, she’s snoring softly, completely asleep.

Mercedes pats Sam’s arm slowly. “Me too. I’m gonna sleep now.”

Kurt breaks away from kissing Blaine senseless, lips bright red and eyes a little wild. “You can take our bed if you want!”

“Are you sure you two don’t need it?” Artie asks teasingly, and Kurt waves his hand behind him as if it’s the most casual thing in the world.

“Nah, we don’t need a bed for that.”

And with that, his mouth is back on Blaine’s without hesitation.

Sam yawns through yet another body roll. “I’m gonna go pass out in your bathtub, guys!”

Blaine gives Sam a thumbs up from behind Kurt.

“Why don’t you just share the bed with Mercedes?” Santana asks. “Aren’t you sort of a thing?”

“Not yet,” he admits. “Still playing it cool, which is why I am sleeping in the bathtub. Good night!”

Rachel wraps her arms around Jesse’s neck. “Are you tired? I’m not tired. I’m never tired.”

Jesse chuckles. “Okay, Rach. I’m not tired if you’re not tired.”

“I’m not —“ she yawns, and her head drops to his shoulder. “Tired. Nope, not me.”

Jesse feels Rachel’s grip around him relax, and he rubs her back gently. “Let’s go to bed.”

“Noooo,” she whines, but lets Jesse lead her back to Kurt and Blaine’s room where Mercedes is already passed out on their bed.

“Stay with me,” she pouts as Jesse helps her onto the bed.

“There’s not enough room on the bed. I’ll sleep on the floor,” Jesse amends, and Rachel flings one of her arms over the bed as he sets him up with a pillow he nabbed from the bed.

“Hold my hand,” she demands, her voice muffled with her face buried in the blankets.

Jesse grins, reaching up to take her hand in his as his eyes droop shut.

Realizing that the room is much emptier than it was just a few moments ago, Santana stops the lazy excuse for dancing that her and Brittany were doing and glances around.

Artie’s fully asleep in his chair, head tilted back and in the same spot he was last dancing. Tina’s still asleep on the couch, but it seems like nearly everyone besides the two hosts and have vacated the room.

Turning to where Kurt and Blaine were last sloppily necking against the wall, she instead finds that they’ve evidently slid down the wall to the floor... and fallen asleep. Blaine’s head rests on the wall behind him, eyes closed and his arms lazily wrapped around Kurt, who’s planted himself in Blaine’s lap and is clinging to him like a koala, mouth open against his neck as he probably drools all over his husband.

Santana wrinkles her nose at that. It’s gross, but that’s love right there.

“Do you think I could fall asleep standing up like a horse?” Brittany suddenly comments, and well, that’s love right there too, because that’s her wife.

“Let’s test that theory another day, okay?” Santana replies, and Brittany shrugs.

“Okay. I guess I’ll sleep on chairs like a normal person.”

Santana just watches in intoxicated exhaustion and Brittany pulls all of Kurt and Blaine’s dining chairs into a row, laying herself across them.

“You can sleep on top of me,” she offers. “I’ll be your mattress.”

Santana grins. “Thanks, Britt, but I’ll just sleep on the floor tonight.”

“Okay.”

As soon as Santana manages to get herself to the floor without falling over, she’s out like a light.

The next morning, Jesse wakes up to a splitting headache and the world feeling way too bright for his current state. Stretching out his sore limbs from sleeping on the floor all night, he quietly heads to the main part of the apartment in search of ibuprofen and water, careful not to wake Rachel and Mercedes.

Stepping carefully over Santana and narrowly avoiding bumping into one of Brittany’s chairs, Jesse finds Kurt and Blaine asleep against a wall.

Kurt stirs as Jesse shakes his shoulder gently. “Mph... Blaine?”

“It’s Jesse,” he says. “Where do you keep your Advil?”

Kurt groans as the effects of his own hangover hit him, never moving from Blaine’s lap and not opening his eyes. “Medicine cabinet in the bathroom. Get me some, please.”

Jesse stands and heads for the bathroom, jumping a mile when he rounds the doorway. Sam’s passed out in the bathtub, unaware of how badly he just startled Jesse.

Jesse merely shakes his head and continues for the medicine cabinet, finding the bottle of Advil, swallowing some before taking it back to the living room.

Kneeling down to where Kurt’s fallen back asleep against Blaine, Jesse shakes him awake again. “Kurt, I brought you Advil.”

“Just give me two for me and two for Blaine... I’ll wake him up,” he mumbles with effort, holding out his hand for Jesse to pour the pills into.

As Jesse takes the medicine back to the bedroom to wake Rachel, Kurt finally opens his eyes, shifting in Blaine’s lap.

“It’s so bright,” he mutters aloud, and Blaine stirs beneath him.

“Hm?” He murmurs, turning into a groan as he wakes up. “God, my head hurts.”

“Here’s some Advil,” Kurt replies, meaning to hand him the pills, but Blaine just opens his mouth for Kurt to drop them in.

Blaine swallows, wincing. “Throat’s so dry. Water?”

“I’ll get it,” Kurt agrees, standing up slowly and dragging himself to the sink, filling up two cups of water for him and his husband.

“Thanks you,” Blaine sighs as he downs it in one pull from the cup. “How much did we drink last night?”

Kurt snorts, sitting up against the wall next to him. “More than I ever have in my life, I think,” he squirms uncomfortably. “My ass hurts.”

“Your ass hurts? The entire lower half of my body is asleep because of it,” Blaine retorts.

Kurt turns to face him, ready to respond when the words die in his throat. He blinks once, twice, trying to understand if what he’s seeing is real or if his vision hasn’t properly focused yet.

“Do you have a hickey?”

Blaine furrows his eyebrows, tilting his chin down to try and see his neck. “I — I don’t know...”

“Oh my god, you have like five,” Kurt gasps, reaching out and tilting Blaine’s head gently to the side. “Did I do that?”

Blaine snorts. “I assume so. Who else?”

Kurt looks down at his own body, then back to Blaine. “Wait. Why are we shirtless? Please tell me we didn’t turn into wild exhibitionists overnight.”

“No, we weren’t so lucky,” Santana remarks as she sits up from the floor. “The only show you gave us was shoving your tongues down each other’s throats until you fell asleep.”

Kurt groans, his hand flying to his forehead as a pang of pain flashes across his head. “Great.”

“Though that wasn’t nearly as exciting as the hickey-giving competition between you and Berry,” she continues, looking much too smug for someone who’s probably just as hungover as they are.

“Britt judged and you won, by the way. That’s what the big one on Blaine’s neck is from. But the other little ones you gave him — those were just for fun.”

Sam suddenly stumbles down the hallway and into the room. “I woke up in your bathtub.”

Blaine laughs loudly, then quickly throws his hands to his head at the pain of the action. “I have a very vague, fuzzy memory of you announcing that you were going to respect Mercedes’ boundaries and sleep there, buddy.”

“You were busy sucking face with Hummel when that happened,” Santana adds. “Which is why that memory’s particularly clouded.”

Rachel slowly walks into the room just behind Sam, Jesse following her. “What the hell did we do last night?”

Santana smirks. “You stripped for us, Berry. It was quite the show.”

“I’m never drinking again,” Rachel decided, then slumps onto the couch, next to a still-sleeping Tina.

“Hey Sam, here’s the Advil if you want to take Mercedes some,” Jesse offers. “Maybe your chivalry in waking her up will help move things along with you two.”

Sam sighs, but takes the bottle from him anyway. “Anything’s worth a shot at this point.”

“Did we do body shots last night?” Brittany suddenly asks from where’s she still stretched out across the chairs.

“I don’t think so,” Blaine responds, and Brittany sighs.

“Damn. The one thing I planned to do.”

Rachel glances over to Kurt and Blaine. “Should we... should we leave soon?”

Kurt waves his hand in her direction. “Just stay. We’ll order pizza and fight off our hangovers together.”

Blaine stands up slowly, leaning against the wall for support. “I’m gonna go find a shirt.”

“Get me one too, please,” Kurt calls.

Rachel unabashedly stares as Blaine passes her, her eyes then darting back to Kurt. “Did you —“

He sighs, nodding defeatedly. “Apparently. According to Santana, we had a race.”

Rachel whips her head around to look at Jesse’s neck. “Oh my god.”

“I liked yours better than Kurt’s, even though I said he won,” Brittany remarks. “It looks like a heart.”

“Never. Again,” Rachel deadpans amidst Santana’s cackling.

“At least you graduated from pink wine coolers this time,” she grins, and Rachel just closes her eyes with a groan.

That may be so, but adulthood really hasn’t changed their drunk selves that much.

**Author's Note:**

> Yikes. They’re responsible adults... right?
> 
> Find me on tumblr @zigxzag-klaine
> 
> Thanks for reading and for all the support!


End file.
